Burning Passion
by kdinthecity
Summary: Pain and pleasure can be complementary sensations, and Ozai and Ursa explore this as newlyweds. But Ozai has always been about ultimate control, and once he's felt a certain power surge through him, it's the point of no return. Backstory to the Ozai-Ursa relationship, fits in with Darkness universe. Rated M for sexual content (non-con/dub-con) and descriptions of abuse.
1. Sex Shop Talk

**A/N:** As far as fanfiction goes, this may be mild. But as a warning, this is darker and more explicit than what I normally write. And while I make BDSM references, this story is NOT about that form of sexual expression being explored in a pleasurable or mutually agreeable way. It's about a man who wants ultimate control and how he finds inflicting abuse on others a source of empowerment.

* * *

Firebenders had the reputation for being the best lovers although the claim was largely unfounded. In truth, everyone had the potential to kindle the flames of passion. Firebenders just happened to have the natural ability to heat things up… literally. Earthbenders were known for the amazing things they could do with their hands. Waterbenders could really _move_ their bodies in the most seductive ways. And even though the Air Nomads hadn't been around for a hundred years, they were the ones who set the historical precedent for orgies. Nonbenders tended to be the most open to everything and more in tune with their energy pathways overall since they weren't overly focused on one particular element.

Even still, the Fire Nation had cornered the market on certain products of passion. Again, it was debatable on whether or not they actually worked, but the merchants didn't care. Their most popular audience became the young nobles, either the ones looking to embarrass their newlywed friends or the ones seeking a little reprieve from their rigid lifestyles. The vendors could always tell who was who. Although when Prince Iroh came to shop, they weren't exactly sure what his motives were.

Gossip about the royal family always spread like wildfire. Some rumors said that Iroh and his brother both fancied the same woman. Others said that Ozai had stolen the elder's bride-to-be. Some said that Prince Iroh had run off to get married to someone else entirely, and that the Fire Lord had threatened to revoke his birth right. Nobody really knew for sure until a royal announcement had been officially made that Prince Ozai, son of Fire Lord Azulon and the late Fire Lady Illah would marry Lady Ursa, daugher of Jinzuk and Rina of Hira'a and granddaughter of Avatar Roku.

Ozai scoffed at his brother's wedding gifts, chastising him for showing his face in the likes of a sex shop. Ursa, however, was quite intrigued by the items, intent on trying everything at least once. The Roaring Panda was an alcoholic drink, and it made her feel warm and tingly and _BOLD_. Ozai didn't like her dominating in bed, though, so he hid the bottle in the back of his office liquor cabinet. So then Ursa took her newfound knowledge about her husband's preferences and showed him a book she'd found among the stash. It was about _BDSN_ which stood for Bender: Dominant, Submissive: Nonbender.

He liked it. A LOT. She said she only liked it sometimes. He finally agreed to try other things when she promised to always be the nonbender in bed. Not necessarily the submissive, he clarified. Just no bending.

Fire and Ice was a lubricant that would offset the rising body heat of a firebender with an instant cooling sensation. Ursa thought the mixture of temperatures made her feel on edge, always in anticipation, _wanting_ … At first, Ozai noted her responsiveness with some satisfaction, but the ice part reminded him of waterbenders, and he just couldn't bring himself to stoop that low.

Burning Passion was simply a burn salve. It wasn't unusual for young or inexperienced firebenders to overheat while aroused. Accidental burns were incredibly common among teenagers. Burning Passion had become increasingly popular among the BDSN crowd as well. Just like hot and cold, pain and pleasure became complementary sensations when applied in just the right way.

And everyone's way was different.

Ozai would never burn on accident. He took pride in the amount of control he maintained as a firebender. Ursa would only tolerate a little bit of pain. She loved her husband, and if he loved her back, surely he would never want to hurt her.

Then one day, everything changed.


	2. Turning Up The Heat

Ozai lay on his four poster bed staring at the crimson canopy above him. He hated this room. He hated the villa. He should be crown prince. He should be living in the palace. He had done his father's bidding and married Roku's granddaughter. She hadn't conceived, yet, but he fucked her twice a day, it was only a matter of time before the promised heir of power would be growing in her womb. He wondered if his son would look like him, if he would be a firebending prodigy, if they would rule _the world_ together.

The Fire Lady's room in the palace was connected to the Lord's, he remembered. That would make things easier especially when Ursa was late like this. He yelled for her. She didn't come. _Dammit, woman_. She knew the routine. Every night before they each retired to their separate quarters for sleeping. And first thing in the morning… because he _rose_ with the sun.

It hadn't always been this way. When they were first married, he'd felt the passion. Maybe it was even love. But now it just felt like pressure. He had to prove himself. Not to her, not really. But to his father—he'd taken the wife Azulon had chosen for him. And to the world—she'd bear him a son to carry on his name, his legacy. He liked having the schedule, too. She said it wasn't spontaneous or exciting. That didn't matter to him so much. He had a _need_ for control… and then an expectation… for _release_.

She finally appeared in the doorway with a thin tunic draped across her shapely frame, the sash tied loosely at her hips. He licked his lips. She _was_ beautiful. Not quite as submissive as he would like, but he could tell she was already losing her will to fight. He'd break her, sooner or later.

"You're late," he growled.

"You're impatient," she replied, emotionless.

"I am Fire Prince Ozai! I wait for no one!" he bellowed.

"You act like you're Fire Lord. But you're nothing but a spoiled prince." Usually Ursa simply did his bidding and left. Even she was surprised by her own boldness tonight.

At first, Ozai thought she might be playing some sort of game. Surely that was it. But when he saw complete and utter _indifference_ in her eyes, he knew his control was slipping. She needed a lesson in… what? Obedience? Respect? The only way he knew how to command those things was through fear.

He launched himself from the bed. She didn't flinch when he blasted an arc of fire through the air between them. Within seconds he had torn the tunic from her shoulders and shoved her forcefully on the bed. With her facing away from him, he gripped her hips and entered her from behind. His thrusts were deep and hard and it was good… _so good_ …

But then he stopped. Through the course of his actions, she had gone completely limp. She did not push back onto him like she normally did. She didn't even make a sound. No shrieks of delight. No gasps of pleasure. Not even heavy breathing. If she hadn't been so warm, he would swear she was _dead_ to him.

"Come on, princess. You know you like it."

No response.

"I can't hear you." His voice had a sickening sing-song tone to it.

Nothing.

"Fuck you, Ursa!" He gripped her hips tighter, noticing his fingers had already left imprints there.

"I thought that's what _you_ were doing," she sneered, her voice muffled by the sheets.

"So cold, Ursa. If I didn't know any better, I'd say I was fucking a waterbender whore."

"Then maybe you should turn up the heat." In retrospect, Ursa would kick herself for using this line. For some reason, it just seemed appropriate at the time. Admittedly she was caught somewhere in between trying to make Ozai mad and knowing that they'd be fucking either way, so…

Ozai marveled at the red spots his fingers made in her skin. It was like he'd made his mark on her, _claimed her._ Sure, he'd marked her before, but this felt different. Like he'd done it almost… against her will. A surge of fire and blood pulsed through him. She must have sensed it because she tightened around his member. _Yes! She does feel me. And she will know that she is mine._

The next part happened without hardly any forethought. Ozai stroked the length of her back with scalding hands, leaving a trail of pink angry flesh behind. She hissed in response.

"Ozai, no…" Her voice was somewhere in between a gasp and a whimper.

"But I thought you liked it _hot,_ princess." His voice was satin, like the sheets.

When he looked down at her back, his marks, they were like pathways pointing to where he was already pressed inside her. He felt the same surge of power again. He twitched. She tensed. _Yes! Now, this… this is good._

He stroked and grabbed and thrust and throbbed. She screamed and cried and begged and _burned._

When it was over, she lingered at the foot of the bed, her tunic balled up in front of her, a display of tangled tresses and tear-stained cheeks.

"Ursa, you look terrible. Make sure you clean yourself up before you come back in the morning." He stretched out lazily on the bed and eyed her disapprovingly.

"The-the morning? My back won't be healed by then!"

"Nonsense, dear. There's always your front."

Burning Passion was a burn salve designed for the occasional accident and those who liked to indulge in a little fire for the sake of fun. For Ursa, it became a daily regimen. Something to provide immediate relief for the pain she bore on the outside. It would take _years_ to heal the pain that festered on the inside. For all Ursa knew, she would always have to take the heat. And her scars would always be more than skin deep.


	3. The Morning After

The morning after, Ozai didn't wake with the sun like he normally did. A warm sense of satisfaction had settled in his loins the night before and rendered him a very deep sleep. He was disoriented when he felt the coolness of her skin as she slipped in bed next to him. She was usually warm, though, and the difference reminded him of her distant expression and how he had to make her _alive_ again. His half-formed morning erection sprang into action with his mind reeling from power-drunk thoughts of what to do next.

The skilled movement of her hands and the warm wetness of her well-positioned mouth distracted him. Flashbacks of her fiery red flesh squirming beneath his white-knuckled hands faded away as he let himself go with these glorious sensations. _Oh, yes, she's always been good at this._

But then he felt a new and different sensation. Ozai didn't like surprises especially when she had control like this. Tiny splashes of wet heat were hitting his groin as she increased her pace. She was crying.

No, this felt _off._ Like missing the sun's wake-up call. Like cool skin on a firebender.

And Ozai simply couldn't stand for it. He gripped her jaw with white-knuckled hands, watching his fiery red flesh slip from her mouth. Her eyes were not vacant, though. They were pleading. _Yes! I want to hear you beg again, Ursa._

She faced him this time because he wanted to _see_ her pain. With her on top, he held her waist with white-hot fingers splayed across her stomach, guiding— _forcing—_ her motions. But she wasn't as vocal, and this disappointed him. Another splash of wet heat—this time, blood. She was biting her lip to keep from crying out, and as the redness trickled down her chin and dripped onto him, again, _this would not do._

First of all, she could bear no visible signs of what he was doing to her. His father would disapprove. Iroh would possibly kill him over this or at least challenge him to an Agni Kai. Her scars would have to be concealable. A bloody lip could raise questions.

Secondly, Ozai did not like blood. It was why he never joined the army. He had heard the story one too many times of how his mother died in childbirth, how there was so. much. blood. The moon had been full the night he was born, and it had a reddish tint to it. They called it the blood moon, and it was a bad omen. He hated the moon. He hated blood. And he hated how all of it made him feel so… out of control.

All he had to do was reach around to her back, where raw tender skin had scarcely begun to heal. Then… she screamed. And he smiled.

* * *

The morning after it happened for the third day in a row, Ursa went to see Dr. Yang. The Burning Passion burn salve just wasn't doing the trick. Dr. Yang confirmed that it was simply an aloe vera gel, designed for soothing but not really healing. Ozai had made threats in no uncertain terms about what would happen if Ursa told anyone. To Dr. Yang's combined look of concern and horror, Ursa replied, "Things got a little overheated."

"Overheated?" Dr. Yang looked incredulously at her patient.

Ursa sighed. "Yeah, we're doing that BDSN thing?" It was the best explanation she could come up with even though she knew it would reflect poorly on an entire practice that some people could derive pleasure from without blatant abuse. Maybe it was her fault for introducing the concept to Ozai in the first place. Or maybe that didn't matter at all. He had been a caged monster, and now he was free to do as he pleased.

"Ursa?" Dr. Yang ghosted a finger over the young woman's lip, certain that she'd seen a bruise there.

Ursa jerked away from her touch. "I'm fine. I just need something for the burns, that's all."

After liberally applying the salve on Ursa's back and abdomen, Dr. Yang handed her the jar. "Here, you take it. It's tried and true, medical grade stuff. Soothes the skin, fights infection, encourages new tissue growth…"

"Thanks… but I don't need it. I told you… it's nothing." Ursa redressed, wincing as fabric brushed against sensitive skin, and left without saying anything more.

A few days later, she was back. And this time, she took the burn salve with her.

* * *

The morning after Ozai had been uncharacteristically gentle in his demands, Ursa awoke rested from the first full night's sleep she'd had in weeks. At some point after realizing—but not quite accepting—that this had become her new routine, _her reality_ , Ursa's living nightmare began revisiting her in her sleep. For some reason, this night had been different, and even though she awoke every morning with a sense of dread, today she felt a flicker of hope.

It came at just the right time, too. Because she wasn't sure if she had the will to live anymore. Nothing could possibly be worth this amount of pain and suffering.

There was a new burning sensation flowing in her blood, though. Something she had never felt before, and as she placed her hands just below her navel, she knew its source. A flame had been lit inside her— _a new life_ —the promise of love rekindled. She closed her tear-filled eyes and prayed to Agni. Then she whispered, "I love you, my child."

Ozai burst through the door. The sun had been up for a half hour. She was late. At the sight of him in his rage, her initial thought was, _"Just go ahead and kill us now. This is no life for a baby, anyway."_

He abruptly stopped his pursuit and stood at the bedside, eyeing her expectantly. It was either the way she cradled her stomach or the intensity he saw in her eyes that tipped him off. "You're pregnant."

"Yes," she whispered.

He stood there, staring, his expression unreadable. Ursa couldn't look at him anymore, this man who was dead to her as a husband, now the father of this life inside her.

As quickly as he came, Ozai was at the door again. Before he left, without even turning back to look at her, he said, "Go see the doctor. Do everything you can to take care of yourself… for the baby."

Ursa's tears flowed again. "Everything _I_ can? What about you, you bastard?" She said the words out loud even though Ozai was long gone.

That night, he sent her away. And for the duration of her pregnancy, he never touched her. As her stomach grew along with the child, her scars thinned and stretched almost to the point of disappearing completely. But to Ursa, this did not symbolize hope. It only meant that the baby had absorbed her pain, and she _knew_ he would one day bear scars of his own.

* * *

The morning after Zuko was born, Ursa watched his tiny chest rise and fall as he struggled to take each breath. She kissed his forehead, her lips pressed into a wisp of black hair. He felt warm to the touch which was comforting. He had been so pale and blue and _cold_ when he was born. The painful memory of those first few quiet minutes brought tears to her eyes again. But then she remembered hearing the most wonderful sound… he cried.

Ursa never imagined he would be so small. Dr. Yang said he had come too early, and that's why he had trouble breathing. Ursa couldn't read the doctor's expression to tell if there was hope or not. She was so used to not allowing herself to feel hope anymore, but now that he was here…

Ozai didn't visit while she was in labor and hadn't come since the baby had been born. They hadn't discussed names, so she didn't know if there was some intended name in the royal line she was supposed to use, but when Ozai didn't show up after the second day, she decided to go ahead and name her son anyway.

Throughout the whole process, she'd felt abandoned. It had been a blessing that Ozai had not touched her when she was pregnant, but it was by no means the special time she had envisioned for when she carried her first child. Because not only did Ozai leave her alone, he left her _ALONE_.

It made her yearn for home. For her parents. Her brothers. For their simple life before the royal family showed up and made it a living hell. She had one brother still living at home, Zukon. When she and her other brother, Cheng, moved to the palace grounds at Azulon's bidding, Zukon expressed that he felt alone. Abandoned. He was the only nonbender of the three siblings, so he always had to fight harder to make a name for himself. But he was a fighter all the same.

She needed Zuko to be a fighter, too.

On the fourth day, Ozai came. The baby was asleep on Ursa's chest, his breathing still labored. The Fire Prince scowled at them from the other side of the room. Dr. Yang tensed.

"He has your eyes," Ursa said. It wasn't true, but she honestly didn't know if Ozai would ever see Zuko's eyes.

"Does he have the spark then?" Ozai said flatly.

"The what?" Ursa looked questioningly at Dr. Yang who shook her head in annoyance.

"The spark," Ozai deadpanned. "To tell if he's a firebender."

"There is no scientific basis to _the spark_ ," Dr. Yang explained in a patronizing tone. "Children don't show signs of their bending ability until age three or four."

"But he's supposed to be a prodigy! His power was prophesied! Yet, you give me… this?!" Zuko flinched at the rise in his father's voice.

"You think this is somehow my fault?" Ursa cupped her hands around the infant's tiny frame, preparing to shield him if necessary.

"The baby came early most likely due to unnecessary _stress_ on the mother's body." Dr. Yang delivered her words pointedly.

Rage flashed again in Ozai's copper-colored eyes. He turned to the doctor and lifted a pointed finger. "Don't even bother trying to save him. If he can't breathe, he can't bend. And if he can't bend, then he'd be better off dead, anyway."

As Ozai stormed off, Zuko's eyes fluttered open. His were gold, like Ursa's, and he studied her intently, almost as if he were looking for a reason to live. He must have seen it because he sighed contentedly and nuzzled into her.

Dr. Yang saw it in her eyes, too. For the first time in a long time, Ursa had hope.

* * *

 **A/N:** I wrote this chapter _the morning after_ the second presidential debate of the 2016 campaign. Sometimes writing fiction for me is an escape from reality and sometimes it is a way to deal with reality. Either way, it is almost always cathartic... even when I'm just doing it for fun.

Writing _Burning Passion_ was not fun. There are elements of Ursa's story that are reflections of my own, and I don't wish that reality on anyone.

But it IS reality, and I am literally sickened by the idea of putting someone in a position of power who would do nothing but exploit, abuse, and misuse that power.


	4. Feeding the Fire

Dr. Yang estimated that Zuko had come about two months early because that was how long a recovery time he needed in the hospital. Born on the Winter Solstice at 3 lbs. and 15 inches long, he was released 61 days later weighing in at 8 ½ lbs. and 19 inches long. The doctor would joke that Ursa's breastmilk must be pure cream. The Fire Princess only laughed and replied, "Well, he never gives up."

 _She_ had been told to give up, though, when Fire Lord Azulon came to visit a week before Zuko was discharged. He informed her that her son would be moved to his nursery soon and that a wet nurse would take over his feedings. Her _duty_ was to return to Ozai's side. She was to wean the baby and make sure she was "fit" to serve her husband well. She nursed him up until day 60, though, unaware of how much she would come to regret it.

Fire Sage Shyu came to visit her that day. Of all the Fire Sages, he had been the kindest toward her. Yet, she knew he had been the one to deliver the prophecy that had ruined her life and now threatened her son's, so regardless of his gentle demeanor, she blamed him for her situation. Even still, she couldn't deny the genuine care and concern he expressed. It was more than anyone else at the royal palace ever extended to her save for Dr. Yang.

"How are you and the baby doing today, Princess Ursa?" Shyu asked.

"Very well, thanks. Zuko is being released tomorrow. He is strong and healthy."

Shyu peered into the bassinet at the sleeping infant. "He is so perfect, Princess Ursa. His skin is like porcelain. His face looks like a doll."

"You speak as though he is delicate… breakable." Ursa narrowed her eyes at the man.

"We all come into the world this way. Small. Vulnerable. Dependent." Shyu sighed as he reached down to stroke the boy's fine black hair. "Not much changes as we get older. We just become bigger versions of people with the same basic needs to be loved and cared for."

Ursa watched him quietly for a few minutes, thinking on the sadness she detected in his voice. Then, "Fire Sage Shyu, will he really be a prodigy of power like the prophecy says?"

The sadness was in his eyes, too, when he turned to face her. "The prophecy has been interpreted as such by the Fire Lord and Prince Ozai."

"How do you interpret it?" Ursa whispered.

"I don't. It simply states that a descendant of Roku's will be all-powerful. That could be your son… or his son… or his grandson. Who knows?"

"You have reason to believe it's not Zuko, though?" For some reason, Ursa _knew_ Shyu felt this way. Even though Ozai had written off his own son as a weakling and a disappointment, she believed he was strong and capable. There was a part of her that wished he were free of this prophecy's burden as well.

"Princess Ursa, it doesn't matter what I think. The royal family is so power-obsessed that they would consume a prodigy child. They will corrupt their heir, and it's up to you to stop it. Teach Zuko to be kind and compassionate. Shield him from this blind hatred. Teach him what true power is, leadership that takes responsibility and shows humility. Teach him that being loved and loving others is not a sign of weakness, but a mark of strength."

Through tears, Ursa nodded in agreement. She silently vowed that Azulon and Ozai would never _mark_ Zuko with their dishonorable ways.

* * *

It felt strange to be back in her room again. Since Ozai never came to the hospital after the fourth day, she had truly come to think of the suite there as a safe haven. This room, adorned in red, felt like fire personified—four walls of fear closing in on her. Ozai's room was two doors down in one direction, and Zuko's was the next room over on the other side. Surely her husband would never hurt the baby, but if he tried to, what would it take on her part to stop him?

Just as she was having these thoughts, a warm hand touched her shoulder, causing her to jump.

"I missed you, Ursa," Ozai whispered into her temple.

"Hmm." She leaned into him, forgetting for a second where she was and what he had become. His warm embrace felt… nice.

He stepped away from her, and the warmth was suddenly gone. "Let me look at you."

She raised an eyebrow at him. He stood with his arms folded across his chest. Then she realized what he meant. She rolled her eyes, untied the sash of her tunic, and opened the garment for him to inspect his _property_. Dr. Yang had advised for her to not wear bindings for a few days while her milk dried up. She could immediately tell by the look on his face that he liked the sight of her engorged breasts.

"Good. Good," he said. "Got rid of all the baby fat, I see."

 _He only weighed 3 lbs. There wasn't much baby fat to lose._ Ursa glared at him.

"These are nice." He reached out to tweak a nipple. She yelped. They were so, so sore.

He smiled. He liked having that effect on her. "See you tonight, Ursa. Don't be late."

* * *

Dr. Yang had suggested cold compresses and gentle massage to help with the pain. Ursa should have never stopped nursing so abruptly, but she realized this way too late. As it turned out, _heat_ and stimulation only increased milk production, so Ozai's obsession was not helping at all. After a week of excruciating pain, the only thing Ursa could think to do was to go back to nursing Zuko. She was still lactating, after all. It became a cherished part of her nightly routine for several months. After visiting Ozai and treating her burns, she quietly slipped into the nursery to feed and spend time with the baby.

This was all well and good until she got caught. Ozai didn't like surprises, and he didn't like the idea of _sharing_. When he stormed into the nursery that night, she thought, _this is it. He's going to hurt Zuko._

But he didn't. He shook a finger at Ursa and made his ultimatums while she physically shielded their son from him. But then Zuko did a curious thing.

"Dada."

Ursa's heart leapt and sank all at the same time. It was the boy's first word.

Ozai withdrew from his scolding posture. "Did he just say?"

Ursa nodded. _So unfair. Ozai barely spends any time with his son._ But then another thought struck her. _Perhaps Zuko knows that in order to save himself, he must please his father._

"Dada."

Ozai smiled—a genuine smile that Ursa realized she had never seen before. She breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps Zuko would be safe after all.

And the boy _was_ safe for awhile. Until one day when he wasn't anymore.


	5. Ember Island Revelations

_Ember Island is a magical place. Give it a chance. And it can help you understand yourself and each other. The beach has a special way of smoothing even the most rugged edges. Like waves washing away the footprints on the sand, Ember Island gives everyone a clean slate. Ember Island reveals the true you._

* * *

Toward the end of summer, General Iroh came home from a two-year deployment with the Fire Nation army. He had left shortly after Ozai and Ursa's wedding. Ursa couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Lu Ten, but her eight-year-old nephew was now preparing to move to the palace and enter the Academy. Up until that point, Lu Ten had been living with his late mother's parents. Iroh had taken leave to help his son get settled.

It was Iroh's idea that they all take a trip to the family's beach house on Ember Island. Ursa had never been, but getting away from the palace sounded like a great idea. Both Iroh and Lu Ten adored Zuko from the first time they met him. It would be fun with them around, Ursa figured. No one was surprised when Azulon declined the invitation, and Ozai went along begrudgingly, of course.

Ursa didn't know Iroh that well, but over the course of their first day on Ember Island, she discovered that he was not anything like his father or brother. He was jovial and funny and helpful and caring. He was such a loving father to Lu Ten, and he extended the same endearment to Zuko. It literally warmed Ursa's heart to see their interactions.

Iroh was also adept at handling Ozai's surly moods. Ursa considered this to be quite a feat. While Lu Ten showed off some of the bending moves his maternal grandfather had taught him, Ozai seethed with jealousy. Ursa had no idea why. It would be a few years before Zuko would be able to firebend. She wanted to scold him for having unrealistic expectations, although she knew this wouldn't go over well. Even still, why couldn't he just snap out of it and enjoy their vacation?

"Cheer up there, brother." Iroh playfully punched Ozai's arm. "Lu Ten is almost as good as you were at that age. _Almost._ " He winked at Ursa.

Lu Ten stopped mid-stance. "Uncle Ozai, Dad told me that you were the best!"

" _Were_?" Ozai's lips turned into a sly smile. "I _am_ the best."

Lu Ten studied his uncle intently. Then, "Will you teach me something?"

Iroh and Ursa left them to go cook dinner. While cutting vegetables side by side, he leaned over and said, "You probably know this already, but with Ozai, you just have to feed the ego. Make him think he's in control… even if he's not."

"Hmm. You have him all figured out, don't you?" Ursa smirked at her brother-in-law.

"Well, I've known Ozai all his life. He's not as complicated as he seems."

It wasn't that Ursa thought her husband was all that complicated. It's just that her situation was complicated. And these sudden new feelings she had were… _very_ complicated.

After dinner, Iroh and Ozai emerged from the library with instruments in hand. Ozai complained about there not being any good liquor in the house, and that he wouldn't play unless he was properly drunk. Somehow Iroh convinced him anyway, so Ursa, Zuko, and Lu Ten settled on the couch to listen to the performance—Iroh on the tsungi horn and Ozai on the pipa. It wasn't long before all three of them drifted off to sleep.

* * *

In the middle of the night, Ursa awoke to find herself in bed but unsure of how she got there. She vaguely recalled strong arms carrying her up the stairs, but the man's face blurred with images from the dream she'd just had. She tried to figure out what she was feeling, some mixture of guilt and _arousal_ , since in said dream it was Iroh that was the father of her son and the lover who warmed her bed.

As if on cue, the heat from someone else's body filled the space beside her. His deep breaths smelled of whiskey which was not Ozai's preferred drink. She felt a hand snake around her to tug at the clasps of her robe. Then, a gentle caress on her bare skin. A few different thoughts entered her mind as she tried to sort through the hazy aftermath of her dream combined with the new sensations of her present situation.

 _I forgot our schedule. If this were Ozai, he would be punishing me right now._

 _Ozai doesn't drink whiskey… or does he?_

 _If this is Iroh and Ozai finds out…_

A warm hand found its way to a very sensitive spot. She gasped and opened herself to the touch.

"I..." She almost said his name.

"So wet, Ursa. Were you waiting for me?" Ozai rasped.

She went completely rigid.

"Relax, Ursa. I just want to make you feel good."

The position of his hand made her nervous. He had never burned her _there_ before. It would be impossible to relax, she knew. How could he expect her to?

"Relaaaaaaaaaax." Ozai placed soft kisses along her neck and shoulder. It was so uncharacteristic for him. Even his voice sounded different. She was so confused. The movement of his fingers felt good, it could be amazing even, if she could just wrap her mind around what was happening. Maybe if she could think of him as the man he was when they first married. Maybe if she could think of him as the man she wished he would be.

Or maybe… she could think of him as the man from her dream.

* * *

The next morning she awoke just before the sunrise, but Ozai was not there. She reflected on the night, the dream she'd had about a man that was not her husband, the strange visitor in her bed who _was_ her husband but acted nothing like him…

Perhaps she dreamed that part, too. Lately Ozai had shown no concern for her own pleasure, and it had been a year or more since she'd had her own climax. And once she decided to let herself go, she went hard. Afterward she hated that she'd given Ozai some sense of satisfaction—that he could undo her like that—that she actually _liked_ something he did to her. She also came to another important conclusion. She would not wait that long to experience such gratification again. She didn't dare trust that Ozai would continue in this new trend. And even if he did, so be it. She planned to start taking care of herself, though. He could have the power over her pain, but she alone would have the power over her pleasure.

The sun was up, so she knew it was time to go to him. He wasn't in his room, though, and neither was Iroh. She did find Zuko curled up fast asleep with Lu Ten. It was such a sweet scene, but she didn't remember putting Zuko to bed in Lu Ten's room. She didn't remember putting Zuko to bed at all. Nothing from the previous night made sense. Had she been drinking whiskey, too?

She found Iroh in the kitchen making tea.

"Good morning, Princess Ursa. Did you sleep well?" he handed her a cup as he turned to greet her.

"I… did, thanks."

"Good, good. There's some fresh mango on the table. That's one of the redeeming things about the Fire Nation summer. The fruits that are in season." Iroh collected more tea cups and saucers from the cabinet and then grinned widely at her.

Ursa thought Iroh must favor their mother because he didn't look that much like Ozai to her. And everyone always talked about how much Ozai looked like a younger Azulon. Maybe it was Iroh's genuine smile that set him apart.

"Iroh… did you put the kids to bed last night?' she asked.

"I did. They fell asleep on the couch during the music. As did you, my dear."

"Why didn't you put Zuko in his own room?" Perhaps it was a silly question, but she was just curious. Zuko had always slept alone, and if she had her way, he always would. She had no desire to become pregnant again or bring another child into the threat that had become their family.

Iroh carried the teapot to the table and motioned for her to sit. "When we used to come here as children, Ozai always slept in the same room as me. He was…"

Ursa raised her eyebrows, urging him to continue.

Iroh chuckled. "This may come as a surprise to you, but Ozai was a very fussy baby. And he didn't like change. So it was hard for him to adjust to sleeping at the beach house. He would cry a lot which would just make Father irritable, so I took care of it."

"What about your mother?"

"What about her?"

"Why didn't she take care of him?"

Iroh sighed. His smile was gone and so was the light in his eyes. "Oh, Ursa. I thought you knew. Our mother died when Ozai was born."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Ursa knew that Fire Lady Illah had died when Ozai was young and that Fire Lord Azulon had taken it quite hard. Certain things made a lot more sense with this newfound knowledge.

Silence stretched between them as they sipped tea and nibbled on mango.

Iroh spoke first. "What about Zuko?"

"What about him?"

"Is he a fussy baby?"

"Oh, no. He's delightful."

"He looks a lot like Ozai did at that age. But he seems… happier." Iroh's smiled again, but this time with a hint of sadness. "Of course, he is. He has you."

Ursa blushed, and a renewed feeling of guilt surged through her. How could Iroh be so wonderful and Ozai so… not? Even still, the plot of the family drama was already thick enough. These complicated emotions would not serve anyone well. She should... not be alone with Iroh right now. "Have you seen Ozai this morning?"

"Mmm, yes. I think he's on the beach. If you want to go to him, I'll watch Zuko when he wakes up. Do you think he'd like the mango?"

"He's never tried mango. But his favorite are the moonpeaches."

* * *

She found Ozai practicing bending formations on the beach. She watched his lean muscular body glisten in the morning sunlight. He was agile and strong and chiseled and _charming_. She remembered all these things that attracted her to him in the first place. She tried to think back to any warning signs she could have heeded before it was too late. The only thing that sprang to mind were his words on their wedding day.

 _"After this day, do not mention Hira'a, your family, or your old life ever again. You belong to the royal family now. And to me."_

"Ursa! How long have you been here?" Ozai called out to her as he crossed the beach to where she was standing.

"Oh, just a few minutes." The summer morning breeze was mild, but she shivered anyway.

"Are you cold?" In another surprisingly tender gesture, he embraced her, enclosing her in warmth. If he hadn't instilled so much fear in the past, she would have found this comforting.

"I'm fine. I came looking for you this morning, but you weren't—"

"It's OK, Ursa. We're on vacation. You can forget the schedule."

She didn't know how to respond in her state of shock. Iroh was right. Ozai didn't like change. Not then. Not now. Something was definitely off about him.

"I hated coming here as a kid," Ozai said as he shifted his attention back toward the beach.

"Oh?"

"Iroh always messed up my sand castles." He laughed. "And would show off all his bending moves he learned at the Academy. Much like Lu Ten did yesterday."

"But Lu Ten hasn't even been to school, yet. And besides, Iroh was much older than you."

"I always felt like I had to compete. And now, even with our kids… _his_ would be the prodigy, of course."

"And Lu Ten is much older than Zuko. Honestly, Ozai, you can't compare the two any more than one could compare you and Iroh as children."

"Father always did."

"Are you sure _he_ did? Or was it _you_ comparing yourself to your brother?"

Ozai's eyes narrowed at her statement, and Ursa wondered if she had gone too far. But then he softened. "You're right. There was a big age gap, and it's not fair to compare. Which is why I don't want to wait before we have another one."

"What!?" Ursa's heart started racing, and she hoped Ozai couldn't sense it. She did _not_ want to have another child.

He tightened his grip on her, and the usual malice returned to his voice. He spoke deep and low into her ear. "Did you think you had a choice?"

Ursa knew that with the "routine," that the likelihood was high anyway. She had just weened Zuko completely, so her cycle wasn't quite back to normal, but it was only a matter of time. Dr. Yang said that it took her so long to conceive the first time due to stress. And it was stress that caused Zuko's premature birth. She couldn't go through all that again. Dr. Yang also said there was an experimental pill along with certain preventative procedures. But even all that sounded stressful to her.

Ozai softened yet again. "Look Ursa, I'm sorry. Zuko is…"

Ursa braced herself for what he might say next. _Not what you expected. Not your prodigy son. Not worthy enough, so you want to try again.  
_

Ozai continued. "He's great. I think… we make beautiful children together. Why not do it again when you can achieve such perfection?"

It wasn't what she expected him to say. But it was still off. Children weren't meant to be achievements. Nor could they possibly be perfect. They were people. And Ozai tended to treat people like possessions—like pawns for personal gain.

"Ursa, say something, please. Don't you want Zuko to have a brother or sister?" he prodded.

"Well… I guess I thought it would be easier with just one. Then there would be no competition… right?" She hoped he would buy this answer that she'd come up with on the fly.

"Ursa, siblings will always compete with each other. And a little competition can be a good thing. It's what encourages the other to do better. It can inspire greatness."

Ursa doubted that Ozai attributed any of his self-perceived greatness to his brother. However, she was beginning to understand how Iroh had become a greater man.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Iroh and Ursa lounged on the beach while Ozai played with Zuko and Lu Ten. It was an odd display of playfulness coming from her husband, and Ursa watched in a state of confused amusement.

"It seems he is a good father to Zuko," Iroh said as he, too, observed the scene.

Ursa wasn't sure how to answer _. If by 'good father' you mean he doesn't hurt him, then yes._ She decided on, "Zuko adores him."

"Ursa, you may not realize this, but you are very special to this family," Iroh continued. "Zuko, too."

"Right, I know. Because of the prophecy about Roku and all that," Ursa deadpanned.

"Oh. That's not what I meant. I had completely forgotten about that."

Ursa turned to face Iroh, finding that his usual smile had contorted into a frown. She wondered what thoughts were behind his expression. What did _he_ think about the prophecy?

Iroh cleared his throat. "Well, what I was really referring to was the bond of motherhood. It hasn't been a part of our family for over a century. And I know there is hope for Zuko because he has you."

"What do you mean it hasn't been part of your family?"

"Well, Ozai never knew our mother. And my father never knew his. And Lu Ten…" Iroh shoved his fist in front of his mouth to catch the sob that escaped.

Ursa knew she should be feeling sorry for Iroh at that moment, but she was feeling more sorry for herself. Or worried, rather. It didn't sound like women lasted very long around the Fire Nation royal family. Iroh said there was hope for Zuko, but somehow his revelation made her feel like they were doomed instead. But then she remembered the promise she'd made to Fire Sage Shyu, that she would teach Zuko to be kind, compassionate, and honorable. _Like Iroh._

"But what about you? You knew your mother, right?" she asked suddenly.

"I was eleven when she died, so yes, I did know her," Iroh confirmed with a steady voice. "Well then, I guess that's something my nephew and I have in common!"

Ursa saw that Iroh's smile was back, and she hoped that Zuko would have even more in common with his uncle as he grew older. And perhaps it truly was the influence of a mother that made the difference, she decided.

* * *

The next day was their last on the island, and Lu Ten begged to go back to the beach. During the lazy hours of the morning, Iroh and his son built a sand castle, Zuko napped in Ursa's lap, and Ozai practiced bending forms under the heat—and power—of the sun. After a picnic lunch, Ozai played with the children again while Iroh and Ursa chatted about nothing in particular.

Lu Ten, in all his eight-year-old bravery, then decided to challenge his uncle to a duel. Ursa saw a flash of the "old Ozai" in his eyes—the non-Ember-Island Ozai—but he quickly reverted to playful uncle and ended up tackling Lu Ten in a frenzy of tickles. Iroh and Ursa both laughed at their antics.

"That'll teach my boy to pick fights with someone twice his size," Iroh observed with a chuckle.

The realization hit them both at the same time. Where was the littlest one?

Zuko was just barely in the water when Ursa made it to him first. Iroh and Ozai were not far behind her and ended up tripping each other and coming down with a _splash_.

Ursa stood there soaking wet, glaring at them.

Zuko giggled. "Dada! Ugga!"

Ozai laughed. "I think Ugga is you, dear brother."

"How can you laugh at a time like this? Zuko could've drowned! You were supposed to be watching him!" Ursa shrieked.

Zuko then frowned, his lip quivering. "Mama?"

Iroh stood up and offered his brother a hand. Ozai didn't take it. "Everything is OK, Ursa. He's safe now." Iroh then reached out as if to take Zuko from her arms.

Ozai beat him to it. "I'll take him back to the beach house then. So he'll be safe, and you won't have to worry anymore." He shot a glare at his brother and then stormed off with his son in his arms.

Zuko reached back toward the other two. "Ugga!"

Ursa stared after them with her hands on her hips. Then she raised them in resignation. "Honestly! Well, I guess we should clean up and head back ourselves."

Iroh walked back with her to their picnic site. He sorted through his bag and then handed her a towel and a dry tunic. "I'm sorry you got wet. This might be a bit big on you, but you can wear it if you want something dry. I won't look while you change, of course."

"It's fine, Iroh. I'm wearing my swimsuit underneath."

It was Lu Ten who noticed first when Ursa removed her sarong without even thinking. "Aunt Ursa! What happened to your stomach?"

She quickly pulled the fabric to recover herself, but she knew Iroh had seen. The only thing she could think of to do was… run.

Naturally, he followed her. "Ursa, wait. Stop… _please_!"

When he caught up to her, he grabbed her wrist. Her reflex was to pull away, but resisting had always brought more pain in the past. So instead she crashed into him and buried her head in his chest, releasing all the pain she had bottled up inside.

He held her and she cried for what seemed like forever. She didn't want to talk about it, but she knew _he_ would. What could she possibly say?

Inevitably, Iroh asked the dreaded question. "Ursa, did he do this to you?"

"It's not… what it looks like."

"Then… what is it exactly?"

"It was supposed to be for fun. It just got… out of hand."

"Ursa… it only counts as fun if both people enjoy it. Tell me that you're OK with it, and I'll drop it. But if you're not, then—"

"He s-s-stopped." _Just a few days ago, here at Ember Island. No clue why, but it's true._ Ursa hoped this answer would suffice.

"Good to know. Do you want me to say anything to him? To make sure he doesn't do it again."

"No!" she said forcefully.

"Ursa, you must know that there are rules about this sort of thing. Burning for torture or malice is not permissible outside of warfare. It is considered most dishonorable. There are dire consequences. Ozai must be stopped before he goes too far."

Ursa pulled away from him and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Even with Iroh as her advocate, she was pretty sure that Azulon considered it her "duty" to do whatever Ozai pleased. And she didn't know what the "consequences" would be, but she had to stay strong through this… for Zuko. "Iroh, I appreciate your concern, but it's fine. Everything is under control."

When she got back to the beach house, Ozai was waiting at the door for her. "Lu Ten said you ran off crying. Is there anything you want to tell me?"

"Oh no, dear. Just a little bite from a turtle-crab. I'll be fine." Ursa knew the minute she said it that he didn't buy it.

"Well, Lu Ten said something about burns on your stomach. That sounds more serious than a little turtle-crab bite." He pinned her with electric copper eyes, live like wires. She knew that look all too well.

Ozai broke eye contact when Iroh interrupted. "I'm going to start packing up now. We'll leave first thing in the morning. Ozai, I could use your help."

Ursa wondered if Iroh had just saved her from whatever Ozai would have done next. Her freedom was only temporary, though, because her husband came to her that night. She needed a reminder of _whose_ she was. She needed punishment for stepping out of line. And he was so sick of this place. He was ready to get back to the palace, back to a regular _routine._

And this time, he told her NOT to scream.


	6. Mistress Min

_One Year Later..._

* * *

Ursa leaned over the bed and clenched the sheets, waiting for the pain to pass. Her throat was already raw from screaming. She'd done this before. _Why is it so much worse this time?_

Ozai placed warm hands on her lower back.

 _Perhaps it's because of him._

He started rubbing in a circular motion just like Dr. Yang had advised. Ursa paced her breathing as the contraction subsided. Ozai let out the breath he had been holding. For some reason only Agni knew, he wanted to help with the birth this time. Dr. Yang inserted a hand in between Ursa's thighs. "The baby is crowning. It won't be long now. A few more contractions, then you'll be ready to push. Ursa, just so you know, this one is… quite a bit bigger than the last one."

It made sense. She'd carried to full term. It had been a terrible pregnancy, though. She'd felt sick the whole time. As the next contraction came on, only one thought passed through her mind. G _et. It. Out. Get it out now!_

Ozai's massage did, in fact, help quite a bit. She'd never peg him to be the worrying type, but he asked Dr. Yang a lot of questions. The type of questions one should never ask in front of a woman in labor.

"Doctor, if the baby is bigger, does that mean there will be a lot of blood?" Whenever Ursa was not having a contraction, Ozai was pacing about the room. It was making her nervous—that and the nature of his questions.

"A little bit of blood is always normal in birth," Dr. Yang answered him. "The size of the baby doesn't matter _too_ much. Unless it causes a tear."

"A tear?" Ursa and Ozai asked in unison. The Fire Prince went pale. Ursa braced herself for the next contraction.

Dr. Yang rolled her eyes. She didn't need another useless father trying to "help." Or worse, a passed-out one becoming a patient himself. "Ozai, I need some more linens from the nurse's station. Would you mind getting some for me?"

"He doesn't like blood," Ursa offered after the pain had released her to form coherent speech again.

"That's… odd," Dr. Yang mused. She'd known the Fire Nation royal family to be bloodthirsty warmongers. Surely the sight of blood didn't make Ozai… _squeamish?_

Ursa knew, however, that Ozai's mother had died in childbirth, and the story of how it happened had been drilled into him over the years. It wasn't the sight of blood, it was the idea of it. Blood meant life, and when you lost enough of it, you died. Bloodline was also life to the royal family, and Ozai had a deep-rooted fear of losing that, too.

He was gone longer than it should have taken to retrieve a few sheets. Dr. Yang already had the baby's shoulders out, instructing Ursa on one last push when he returned.

"Oh, good. You're here." Dr. Yang handed him the screaming infant. He blanched, but instinctively wrapped her up in the cloths he was holding while Dr. Yang clamped and cut the umbilical cord.

"It's a girl?" He looked questioningly at Ursa who nodded slightly before her eyes fluttered shut.

* * *

Ursa awoke sometime later to Dr. Yang hovering over her. A smile spread across the doctor's face, but the crease in her brow betrayed her.

"What is it?" Ursa croaked. "The baby?"

"Azula is fine. She's with Ozai."

"Azula?"

"Mmm, yes. He named her after his father apparently."

Ursa supposed that was fair. She'd named Zuko after all. She licked her dry lips. "Water, please."

"Of course." Dr. Yang handed her a cup and assisted her in sitting up. In response to Ursa's wince as she did so, she said, "So, do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

Ursa drank and let her head fall back into the pillow. "Whichever."

"Well, the good news is that even though there was an abnormal amount of bleeding, Ozai did not pass out." Dr. Yang raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lip. When Ursa just stared blankly at her, she cleared her throat and continued, "And, of course, the baby is fine, and you will be fine… mostly."

Ursa couldn't fully anticipate what the doctor would say next, but she hoped it would be—

"You won't be able to have any more children, though."

Ursa let out a huge sigh of… relief. _This is for the best_. But then she started to feel guilty. What kind of mother thinks this way about her Agni-given ability to bring life into the world? "What happened?"

"The placenta wouldn't detach properly," Dr. Yang replied matter-of-factly. "I had to… remove it all. Normally there would be more blood, but…"

"But what?"

"There was a lot of scar tissue. I've never seen anything like it. I know you have scars on the outside, but how?" Dr. Yang choked on her words. She couldn't continue. She couldn't even imagine.

"It's not…" Ursa didn't know, either. All of her trauma had been external. Ozai was even careful in her most intimate places. Sometimes when she didn't know if she could take it anymore, she figured she must've just _absorbed_ the pain somehow. "Where is he now?" she whispered.

"Down the hall. Do you want me to send him in with the baby? Or I can just get Azula for you. She'll need to eat soon."

"Just… Azula, please." It would be hard to get used to— _and accept_ —the name.

Left alone with her thoughts, Ursa wondered if her outward suffering was somehow reflected on the inside. And did those internal scars end up saving her life?

* * *

"She won't latch!" Ursa looked helplessly at Dr. Yang through tear-filled eyes. "I've been trying for nearly an hour. She's obviously hungry, but it's just. not. working."

Dr. Yang took the screaming child, bouncing and patting to try and comfort her. Azula's lips were swollen from her efforts at feeding, and Ursa was red and raw, she noticed. The doctor had seen this before with young, first-time mothers, but Ursa had taken so well to breastfeeding with Zuko, despite his weakness as a premature baby. It was rare with second-borns, but understandable when the mother's nerves were shot.

"Take a break, Ursa. She won't starve. She still has nutrients from being inside the womb, so try again in a few hours." Dr. Yang looked down at the purple-faced infant and thought Azula might disagree with this statement.

They tried again a few hours later. And then in the middle of the night. By morning, something had to be done.

To a very defeated Ursa, Dr. Yang pitched a proposal. "So, there's another woman here who was in labor at the same time as you. She's agreed to nurse Azula for you, if that is OK with you."

"But will she have enough for her own baby and mine, too?"

"She… lost her baby. It was… too early."

Ursa choked back her sobs. How could she ask for such a thing when the woman had experienced so much loss? She couldn't. It was…unfathomable. She shook her head.

"Ursa, she'd make a good candidate for a wet nurse, actually. She works in the palace kitchens. It would be… a step up for her. I think the idea gives her hope in the midst of her situation. You can think about it, but she's already agreed to helping with a few feedings for now."

"I think you should do it." Neither of them noticed Ozai standing in the doorway.

Ursa flinched at the sound of his voice. _Why should he get any say in the matter?_

"I've already met her." He cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact with his wife. "Her name is Min."

Ursa surprised herself by the words she said next. "Fine. Do it. But I don't just want her as a wet nurse. I want her to be the nanny, too."

"What? Why?" he asked.

Ursa couldn't discern the tone in Ozai's voice, but she didn't care. She had made up her mind. "Because once I recover, I'm going back to work."

* * *

 _Five years later..._

Working at the hospital gave Ursa renewed purpose and confidence. It had been the singlemost important decision she'd made since marrying Ozai. Sure, it meant less time she could spend with the kids, but she was much happier during the times they did have together. Ozai had even perceived her newfound self-assurance as reason to back off in the bedroom, or so it seemed. It also became evident to them both that burn scars lacked nerve endings, so when Ozai ran out of concealable skin to burn, he ran out of ways to make her scream.

Min, the nanny, was great with the kids. She always acted a little timid around Ozai and even moreso around Ursa, though. It was understandable that Ozai would be intimidating, but Ursa couldn't figure out why Min would be afraid of her. So, for Azula's fifth birthday, she suggested that the three of them visit the royal spa together. Azula was so excited. Min seemed anxious.

After the stylists had washed, combed and braided Azula's hair, they set about painting her fingernails. The girl then pitched a royal fit about what color she wanted them to be. _Not red._ She wanted blue. But there was no blue. That was a Water Tribe color, the stylist said to try to appease the young princess. Azula wailed even louder at this pronouncement. Ursa then decided that her daughter needed a nap.

"I'll take her," Min offered.

"Nonsense," Ursa replied. "You've barely had any spa services yourself. Women need to take time to pamper themselves."

Ursa ordered a servant to take Azula back to her room for a nap. "If she refuses, then take her to Ozai." The two had a special bond after all.

"Let's do the mineral baths, shall we?" It was Ursa's favorite part of the spa.

"Umm, maybe I should go check on Azula. She seemed pretty upset." Min's eyes darted nervously around the room.

Ursa handed her a towel. "Don't worry about it. This is my treat. A special thanks for everything you've done for me. I'll see you in there."

Min waited until Ursa had settled into the water with her eyes closed before she entered the bath herself. She made a hissing sound between her teeth as the hot water hit her skin.

"It is a little hot, isn't it?" Ursa said from across the pool. "And you're not a firebender, are you?"

"N-n-no ma'am."

"Both kids are bending now, so you better watch out."

"Yes ma'am."

Ursa opened one eye to look at the other woman. "I'm serious, Min. Kids are prone to accidents especially when they throw tantrums. And siblings have a tendency to fight. Do you have any burn salve? Dr. Yang has a great formula."

"Yes, I do. Thank you."

Ursa couldn't be sure, but she thought maybe she sensed Min's breath quickening. She hadn't meant to make the woman nervous. Her intentions were quite the opposite. Why did she even feel compelled to mention the burn salve? It was her doctor training. Surely that was it. No—it was something Azula had said.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Ursa continued. "I think it was Azula who told me you had a bad burn, so maybe that's why—"

Min was definitely breathing heavily now. As if she were gasping for her next breath.

"Min, are you OK? Is the water too hot? I can have them adjust the temperature."

Ursa's reflexes and medical expertise took over at that point. Once she had lifted Min out of the water, she quickly assessed her vitals. Even though the woman's heart was racing, it was not a heart attack. She was hyperventilating, but why? Ursa was able to coax her with calm words and help restore her breathing back to normal, but through the process, she decided that it wasn't the hot water that caused her reaction. It was fear… _panic._

In the heat of the moment, while stroking the woman's back in an effort to comfort her, she hadn't noticed the scars. But when steady breaths began to reemerge from Min's shaken frame, Ursa noticed. And she _knew._

And her heart stopped for a beat or two.

She pulled away from the woman—their nanny—and saw the same telltale signs on her stomach and sides, too. Ursa's heart pumped furiously now. She could hear blood pounding in her ears. Even though the room was filled with steam, the air suddenly became very clear.

How insistent Ozai was that Min take the job.

How she'd gotten a reprieve these past few years.

How he didn't seem to mind if she worked longer hours.

How he was suddenly more involved with the kids.

When she looked back at Min, the woman was staring at Ursa's scars. They both realized their awkward— _humiliating_ —situation at the same time and reached for their towels to cover themselves. Their eyes met briefly, and Ursa saw such sadness, hurt, and confusion. But she couldn't offer any help. Not for this. A heart attack would have been easier to deal with than _this._

When Ursa got to the door, she couldn't look back, but she knew she had to say something. "Min, do you have anyone you can go to? Any family? _Away_ from the palace?"

"I have a cousin who lives in Nanchi," Min replied meekly.

"Good. You must go there. I will arrange for my brother, Cheng, to take you. He will give you some money, too. You must leave immediately. I… officially relieve you of your service to the royal family."

Ursa remained emotionless and firm until Min finally spoke, broken and sobbing. "I will do as you say, Princess Ursa. B-b-but please know that I loved your children… as if they were my own."

* * *

Ursa went to see Cheng first to make the necessary arrangements. Then, she paced about in the palace gardens trying to gather her thoughts, deciding what she would say to Ozai. How could he do such a thing to a woman who had lost her own child but would so willingly care for theirs even in the middle of her grief?

The next realization hit her like a wave of fire, the heat almost to intense to bear. It was funny how a woman in labor was so acutely aware of all of her senses and completely in tune with her surroundings. It was only the stress of her postpartum condition and her struggle to bond with Azula that had muddled her ability to process it then. But now…

Min was in labor at the same time as she was.

Ozai had gone missing for nearly an hour before Azula was born.

And when he returned, fear was written all over his face. He showed it so rarely. Ursa thought it was from the blood. But it wasn't _her_ blood that had scared him, was it?

How long had he been fucking the girl from the kitchens? Or rather, how long had he been _burning_ her? Was that _his_ child that she lost? Oh Agni, he didn't kill her baby… did he?

These thoughts created rage inside her, a hatred that boiled in her blood and consumed her like nothing had before. She wasn't thinking clearly when she confronted him, otherwise she would have never challenged him with fire. Not that words would have been sufficient anyway, and perhaps that _was_ her line of thinking—she had to fight fire _with_ fire. She honestly didn't care that he was stronger. She knew that she would lose this fight, and maybe that was for the better. She should have fought back—so that she could give up—a long time ago.

He responded with flames from a different sort of fuel. He didn't burn her—no, he knew she was already too calloused for that. He spewed sparks from his mouth, fiery words of slander and shame, calling her a disappointing lover, an insubordinate wife, and an unworthy mother.

When he said the last part, he lit up. "And I'll show you just how terrible a mother you are." If she insisted that he couldn't cause her pain anymore, then he knew exactly how to hurt her. Ozai began walking briskly toward Zuko's room.

"No!" Ursa gasped. "No, no, no! Ozai, don't you dare!"

"If you were a good mother, then you could stop me," he snarled.

"Please, Ozai. I'll do anything. DO anything to ME. But not him, not Zuko!"

"It's about time Zuko learned the truth about his mother. About what a weak and worthless bitch she is. I'll even let you hold. him. down. So that he _knows_ , Ursa."

"No, Ozai, stop! Please, STOP!" She pounded her fists into his back as he walked, but he was not deterred. She then darted around in front of him and blasted an arc of fire in the air.

He rammed into her, grabbing her wrists and practically lifting her off the ground. "Ohhh, perhaps you would like to deliver the first blow? That's fine, I'll hold him down, and you firebend." He then dropped her and began dragging her behind him.

"Please…I won't…" she sobbed. "I won't firebend."

He stopped dead in his tracks. "What did you say?"

"I won't firebend." She'd meant at Zuko, but it didn't matter. Ozai had stopped. And that's all that mattered. She would say whatever he wanted her to say at that point.

"You won't firebend… ever?"

"No. Never."

"OK, let me get this straight, because I've already demanded that you not firebend while fucking, but I'm talking about firebending all. the. time. Like you would become lowly little Ursa, the non-bending bitch you were meant to be."

Ursa swallowed hard and then drew herself up to her full height. "If that is what you wish, then so be it." After noting Ozai's nod of approval, she added, "But you must promise never to hurt Zuko… or Azula. You will never lay a finger on them as long as I don't firebend. Do we have a deal?"

Ozai released her wrist and laughed. "I don't make deals with lowlife nonbending peasants."

Ursa shot another arc of flames into the air. "I am Princess Ursa, your wife, and the mother of your children." Gold met copper as the blast of her fire faded from its reflection in their eyes. "Do we have a deal… or not?"

Ursa had no clue what she would've done if Ozai had said no—if he would have continued his pursuit of Zuko. It was undeniably disturbing—if not downright crazy—the way he stood there in the hallway just laughing at her before finally saying, "Deal, Ursa."

She narrowed her eyes at him, reveling in her victory, as if ready to challenge him to something more. It was a mistake she would soon regret. With lightening quick reflexes, he grabbed her wrist once again and started dragging her the other way toward his room.

"Now that you've gone and dismissed my mistress, Ursa, you'll have to make up for her absence."


	7. Mates for Life

_A few weeks later..._

* * *

There was something simple and peaceful about the turtleduck pond that always drew her there. It offered a quiet place to think or better yet, let the mind wander and hopefully _forget._ Ursa liked watching the ducks—their rhythmic paddling, their playful antics, and their unconditional companionship.

Iroh cleared his throat as he approached her from behind. "Lady Ursa, I'm sorry to interrupt your reverie, but I'll be headed out soon. I wanted to wish you well."

Ursa knew she should probably stand to properly acknowledge him—embrace him, even. When Iroh went off to war, she never knew if he would be coming back. She felt so weary, though. Like if she fell into his arms, then she would just keep falling. The best she could offer was a smile.

Surprisingly, Iroh sat down beside her to watch the turtleducks, laughing as one pair of them toppled over each other at the opposite bank of the pond while the other two darted across the water in a game of chase.

"What did the children name them?" he asked.

"Oh, umm. Zuko named those two over there Duck and Duckie. And Azula named these two Lightening Bolt and Fireball."

"Good names for turtleducks, indeed." Iroh chuckled. "Ursa, did you know that they are some of the very few animal species that mate for life?"

"No, I didn't."

"They do. And so do dragons, I think. I'm not even sure humans are that devoted. The turtleducks are fiercely loyal to each other. And just wait until they have ducklings. You should warn the children, actually. The mama will bite if she thinks her babies are being threatened."

Ursa closed her eyes, willing her tears away. "Yes, mothers tend to do that."

Iroh placed a warm hand on her forearm. "Ursa, I've said it before, but I want to thank you again for being a motherly influence around here. That type of love and devotion is sorely needed in my family. Now that Lu Ten has been living at the palace, I can sense your influence even on him. My son may never know—well, that doesn't matter now. I'm so grateful he has you."

If Ursa knew how to return the expression of gratitude ten-fold, she would. In fact, she was about to thank him for being the _only_ positive male influence in her own children's lives, but he spoke first.

"Ursa, if anything were to… happen to me, would you make sure that Lu Ten is well cared for? My father, he does his best, but—"

"Of course! You don't even have to ask. I am deeply humbled to be entrusted with such an honor." Ursa lightly touched his hand in response.

Iroh gave her a funny look. "Honor. Hmm. Perhaps that's what is missing from this family. Truth. Purity. Honor."

Ursa hardly felt she personified any of those things. She lied to herself every morning, convincing herself that everything would be OK. She felt worthless and impure for wishing her husband was someone else. And honor. That concept was vague. It seemed like a word that people just threw around but didn't really understand its meaning. Who really had honor?

When she saw the warmth and genuine concern in Iroh's countenance just then, she knew the answer. "And likewise," she said suddenly. "If anything happens to me, will you take care of Zuko… and Azula?" She'd added her daughter as an afterthought, but not because she loved her any less, she just felt like the girl was somehow safer with her father than Zuko was.

"You have my word," Iroh said solemnly. "You know I love your children as if they were my own."

Ursa broke at this statement, the same words Min had said. It was no use fighting back the tears now.

Strong arms surrounded her as he whispered into her hair, "Shhhh. I'm here for you, Ursa. Whatever it is. You can tell me… or not... but I'm here."

Ursa shuddered under the weight of the hopelessness she felt. _Sure, he is here NOW. But he's not here when it matters. He's not here behind the closed doors, privy to what his brother does in secret. He's not here when Azulon looks the other way and calls it my "duty." He is not here fighting for me because he is out there somewhere fighting for something else._

"Ursa?" Iroh urged. "Is he doing it again? Is he hurting you?"

 _Again, yes. Always._

When she didn't answer, she felt him stiffen. "Ursa, there are rules against this. Measures you can take. He may be the prince, but he should not be above the law."

 _He shouldn't be, but…_

"If you can prove what is happening, then the marriage will be nullified. If you won't do it for yourself, and you have any reason to believe that Ozai would hurt the children, then do it for them."

Ursa's heart fluttered at this revelation. "N-n-nullified?" _Could I really be free of him?_

It was as if Iroh read her mind. "Yes, you can be free of him. Take the children and run… far away from here."

That didn't sound like freedom, though. Running for the rest of her life? Tearing her children from their home when their father had done nothing to them? And it didn't sound like justice either. Would a nullified marriage be Ozai's only punishment? Because he'd already proven that he'd just do it again… to someone else…

Iroh continued with fervor, "I'll talk to my father. He wouldn't approve of this, Ursa, I _know_ he wouldn't. He loved my mother dearly, and he wouldn't stand for Ozai to treat the mother of his grandchildren this way."

 _The mother of Roku's heir, you mean._ No, Azulon would not be on her side. He would not let them slip from the family's fingers so easily. He knew what Ozai was doing, _he had to._ There was no hope for her, not as long as…

She pushed away the vicious— _treasonous_ —thoughts that had just entered her mind. _Honor._ She looked longingly at the face of the most honorable man she knew. Someday _he_ would be Fire Lord and maybe then there would be hope—not just for her, but for the whole family… perhaps even the whole nation.

Iroh met her gaze and then grabbed her wrists, pulling her closer to emphasize his words. "Ursa, just say it, and I will do it. I will make the pain go away."

Ursa winced at his grip. _Why do men do that? Grab women there as if we are their puppets._ The bruises on her wrists had just barely healed since Ozai's assault. If anything, she saw this as a sign. _No one can take away my pain._

"No!" She jerked away from him. "Don't. You'll—it will just make it worse."

"Ursa… on the contrary. I just want to make it better." Iroh held his hands out to his sides as if approaching a wild animal. His voice was quiet, calm, _tame._

"Then… go. Leave me alone. It's better… without you…" She'd meant to say something like _without you meddling_ or _without you fueling Ozai's wrath_ , but the words got stuck in her throat, and their meaning was lost on him, too.

She saw the hurt flash in his eyes, but only for a second. Iroh knew how to put up walls of defense himself. He knew not to get too close or else have to endure the fire. He knew that taking away her pain had been an empty promise anyway, because he still had to face his every day.

His jaw clinched. "So be it. Princess Ursa, if I can offer no further assistance, then I must bid you farewell. I don't know when I'll have the honor of seeing you again, but until then…"

"Go with Agni, General Iroh." The traditional bow was too formal for what they shared, but the air between them was thick with uncertainty. He returned the gesture and left her to collapse into a pool of silent tears right there by the turtleduck pond.

It wasn't long before a small, frantic voice pierced through her clouded thoughts. "Zuko?" It was getting louder as he was coming closer... and he was coming fast!

"Zuko!" she yelled. "I'm here!"

She caught the flicker of his golden eyes before a mess of black hair and pink cheeks crashed into her side. "Mama, mama! Something is wrong with Azula! Come quick!"

Zuko grabbed her by the wrist and led her toward the royal hospital. But this time she didn't recoil from the touch. And she didn't feel any pain.

* * *

"Calm down, Ursa!" Dr. Yang reached out to steady the pacing, _raging_ princess.

"I know he did this. I _know_ he did. I'll just have to—"

"Don't do anything brash, Ursa." The doctor resumed her usual clinical tone.

"I'll go to him. I'll tell him that—"

"No! Your place is here with your children. With Azula."

Zuko poked his head in the doorway. "Mama, I'm scared."

Ursa followed his worried gaze down to her glowing fists. She hadn't realized how worked up she had become. But she was just so angry. _And afraid._

She saw her own fear reflected in Zuko's eyes. "It's OK, my love." She shook out her hands and held them palm-up, coaxing him toward her. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Azula will be OK. You were very brave in coming to get me."

"I told Dr. Yang first. Is that… bad?" Zuko searched both women for his answer.

"Of course, not. Dr. Yang is… the best person to take care of Azula," Ursa said through gritted teeth.

The doctor gave the boy a reassuring nod, ignoring Ursa's sideways glare. "Zuko, you did such a good job protecting your sister. Would you like to sleep here tonight? In the royal hospital suite? There's an extra bed in that room, and it connects to your sister's."

He nodded slowly, unsure. Then he yawned. Dr. Yang and Ursa exchanged knowing glances before mother scooped up her son to tuck him into bed. When she returned to the sitting area, Dr. Yang had prepared tea.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I told Zuko a while back that if he ever saw anyone get burned, to come and tell me straight away. I wasn't trying to undermine you. I was actually thinking more along the lines of… well, if he ever saw anything, he needed someone else he could run to. And since I already _know_ …" Dr. Yang raised an eyebrow.

Ursa sipped her tea, recognizing it as a calming blend they often gave patients with frayed nerves. "Did he say what happened, then?" She dreaded the answer.

Dr. Yang frowned. "No, he didn't. Only that he wasn't supposed to say."

Ursa gripped her tea cup tighter, causing its contents to start boiling. "He WILL pay for this. Maybe he can get away with this with _other_ children, but NOT his own."

"Other children?"

Ursa sighed. Surely Dr. Yang knew about this, too. "Min." She saw recognition in the other woman's face. "Remember now?"

"Min's situation was… unfortunate. Devastating, really." Dr. Yang was troubled by the depth of Ursa's rage. It was so strong, yet uncharacteristic for the princess. Ursa wasn't the vengeful type. She took a guess as to one of the reasons why. "He didn't kill Min's baby, if that's what you're thinking. The baby came early, just like Zuko did, but instead he was stillborn. There was nothing anyone could do."

 _Of course, there is nothing anyone can do. We are all powerless in this. Save for Ozai in his quest to overpower everyone around him. But why Azula? She was already so firmly in his grip, surely there was no need to..._ While the rawness continued to burn at the back of her throat, Ursa couldn't cry anymore. She was completely and utterly drained at this point.

Dr. Yang dropped her voice to a whisper. "But I will say this, IF Ozai did this to Azula, and if your children are in danger, you should leave. Take them and flee, Ursa. You sent Min away to be free from him, why won't you do the same for you and your children?"

Everything that Dr. Yang was saying made sense. Iroh had said it, too. The part that still didn't make sense was Ozai burning Azula. She was his prize. She turned out to be the firebending prodigy, producing her first flames just shy of her second birthday. And Zuko was never good enough for Ozai which he made perfectly clear with the harsh criticisms he constantly threw at his son. His words toward Zuko _would_ correlate with the actions presented here, but the boy's skin was pristine as ever. Ozai's actions—his _affections_ , even—toward Azula did not.

She needed to know for sure.

"Ursa, where are you going?" Dr. Yang called after her.

"I'm going to… leave this Angi-forsaken place!"

* * *

The war council had called a special session, but that didn't matter to Ursa. She burst through the door, interrupting a presentation that Iroh was making to the council. She searched the room for Ozai, scanning past several pairs of widened eyes in the process. His were easy to spot, electric copper and narrowed.

"How dare you!" she bellowed.

"Ursa…" Iroh reached a tentative hand toward her.

Ozai stood to his feet at the same time the flames surrounding the throne rose with Azulon's booming voice. "Prince Ozai, I order you to take care of this situation."

"Oh yes, dear husband. Why don't you just take care of me the way you took care of our daughter!" Ursa seethed.

She heard Iroh gasp beside her. She hadn't noticed that the general had crossed the room already before Ozai even had a chance to rise to his feet. He grabbed her arm and started pushing her toward the door. "I will handle this, Fire Lord Azulon. Don't worry, Ozai. I was just leaving anyway. My troops are waiting for me."

"Iroh!" Ozai barked. "She is _mine_ to deal with!"

Iroh stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face his brother. "I will take what is _yours_ back where she belongs. Which is NOT here. Your place, however IS here. Do your service to our great nation. Resume your seat on the council. Your wife will be waiting for you."

Outside in the hallway, Iroh nearly slammed Ursa into the wall. "What in Agni's name were you thinking!? Do you want to get yourself killed?"

"He…hurt…Azula…I…don't...know…what...to..." Ursa couldn't catch her breath.

Iroh stood back and straightened the creases of his uniform. "This is all the more reason for you to leave. You must do so tonight. Request a presence with my father. Tell him everything that Ozai has done to you… and your children. Then leave. And don't come back until the situation has been handled. Or don't ever come back. You owe us nothing. Not after what Ozai has taken from you."

"OK. OK."

"Ursa, _promise_ me! Go and see Fire Lord Azulon tonight!"

"I will. I promise."

* * *

It took Ursa a while to work up the courage to make her petition to the Fire Lord. She waited a while after the council meeting had adjourned, then slipped inside the throne room door, taking a moment to collect herself from behind the thick curtain there at the entrance. The flames around the throne crackled menacingly, and she thought she could make out the shadowy figure that sat just beyond them.

But then another figure rose from a kneeling position before the throne. "Father," Ozai croaked. Ursa had never heard such emotion from him.

"Silence!" Azulon's voice rang throughout the room. "I did not permit you to speak. Nor did I say you could stand. You are hardly worthy to be in my presence right now, so you will resume the posture of a lowlife peasant and listen to what I have to say."

Ozai then lay prostrate on the ground, and Ursa's heart started racing at the sight of her husband in such a position of submission.

Azulon continued, "Now, despite my earlier warnings, you have continued to bring dishonor to our family through the mistreatment and unfaithfulness you have displayed toward your wife. And now I hear this about your daughter?"

"But Father, I didn't—"

"SILENCE!"

Ursa let out an audible gasp and clapped a hand over her mouth. She feared that she had been heard, but then realized that Ozai had made the same sound at the same time.

"You are a disappointing prince, an insubordinate son, and an unworthy heir. You have been entrusted with some of the greatest power ever promised to our family, and what do you do with it? You are weak and worthless, and I have half a mind to banish you for this."

Ursa shuddered as Azulon spoke. They were some of the same words Ozai had spoken to her. She'd even heard him say similar things to Zuko before.

"Father, please… have mercy…" Ozai's voice was muffled with his head still bowed to the floor.

"Mercy? Do you show her any mercy when you scorch her skin just because it gets you off? You sick bastard!" The flames increased in intensity. "No, if I had any mercy, I'd send her away, not you."

Ursa's heart leapt at the possibility. What good fortune—she may not even have to ask the Fire Lord herself to leave. Obviously she didn't have to tell him about Ozai's crimes. Her hope was very short-lived, though.

"No, Ursa will stay. She is the mother of your children. And they will need their mother… or else they will grow up to be as wretched as their father. It's a good thing you killed your mother when you did. Because if she knew what you were doing to your wife, your own daughter, it would sicken her to death."

Ozai lifted his head slightly. "But Azula, I didn't—I wouldn't—"

"And you won't ever again. If I hear of you so much as laying a finger on Ursa or Azula, I WILL banish you… or worse."

 _He didn't say Zuko. Why didn't he say Zuko?_ Ursa wanted to interject her piece, but the promise of this protection was too much to potentially ruin by making her presence known.

"Yes, Father," Ozai replied with more conviction in his voice this time.

"Now leave, you worthless piece of shit. You're wasting my time!"

Ozai scrambled to his feet and took long strides toward the door. Ursa caught a glimpse of his face just before he passed through the door. She wasn't sure what she expected to see there, but it wasn't a sly smile. The same one he gave when she entered his room at night. Any hope she had of a reprieve was shattered.

So she stood there glued to the wall, weighing her next move. She _had to_ ask Azulon if she could leave. Based on the conversation she had just witnessed, though, she wasn't sure the best way to phrase things to her advantage. As she mulled it over in her mind, another petitioner entered the room.

Iroh bowed deeply before addressing his father. "My Lord, the troops are ready to move out."

"Very good, Prince Iroh. I wish you well in this operation. The attack sounds fool proof. I commend you on a well laid-out plan." Ursa noted the complete change in Azulon's tone of voice.

"Lu Ten should be all set to start his sixth year at the academy," Iroh continued.

"Ah yes, thirteen. Such a formative age," Azulon replied.

"He just turned fourteen, my Lord. And he would lo—err, _benefit_ from time spent with his grandfather, of course."

"Of course, of course. Family is important."

"There is another family matter I would like to discuss."

Ursa tensed at this. Again, her fate was on the table without her having any say in it.

"Very well, but make it quick."

"It's about Ozai… and Ursa… and now Azula apparently—"

"It's already been taken care of." Azulon waved a hand in a dismissive manner.

"It has?"

"Yes. I have taken care of your brother."

Iroh's fists clinched. "Since when have you taken care of Ozai?"

"I will ignore the implications of that statement."

"I'm serious, _Fire Lord,_ " Iroh spoke through gritted teeth. "Ozai has gotten out of hand. The marriage should be nullified. Ursa should be free from this."

"I cannot just let Ursa go, not when she is tied to our bloodline through her children. And not when the prophecy about Roku's heir—"

"Fuck the prophecy. Have you seen her scars, Father? Because I have. That's all the proof she needs to charge Ozai herself which could be a very public affair. You can make this go away quietly… so that Ozai doesn't bring any more dishonor to our family than he already has."

"I TOLD you that I have already taken care of it!" The flames blazed once more.

"Fine. Whatever. But when this shit blows up, your hands are going to be dirty, too." Iroh then turned and stormed off, the heels of his boots sending echoes throughout the throne room.

Azulon called after him. "If I nullify the marriage, will you take her as your wife? Like you were supposed to in the first place?"

Iroh stopped walking. Ursa's heart stopped beating.

"I thought we settled that a long time ago, _Father_."

"You obviously care for Ursa. Perhaps too much. How is it exactly that you came to see her scars?"

"Father, don't."

"It would work out nicely, don't you think? We still get to keep Roku's heir. Ozai gets his proper punishment. And you get a second chance at love."

"I don't… I can't…"

"Come on, Iroh, you can't hold on to Giya forever. Just let her go."

"You talk about people like they're possessions. Keeping. Holding. Letting go. It's not that simple."

"Of course, it is. Just make a choice. And move on."

"What? Like you did with mother?" Iroh took the raging fire surrounding his father's throne as his cue to end the conversation and leave for good.

Ursa slumped against the wall behind the curtain, unable to move. She was numb from it all. She'd come in with a plan and watched it all crumble into the same pile of rubble on which the Fire Nation was built. There was no hope in this place. No honor. No redemption. And no escape.

* * *

On her way back to the hospital, Ursa encountered Dr. Yang guiding a very tentative Zuko toward her.

"What is it, Zuko?" Ursa's voice was raw from the day's range of emotions.

"I think he has something to tell you." Dr. Yang gently patted the boy's back and coaxed him toward his mother. She then leaned in to whisper to Ursa. "I overheard him talking to Azula. I will tell you later… if he doesn't."

Ursa took Zuko's hand, and they walked in silence to the turtleduck pond. She knew he liked it there, too. Darkness had settled around them, so they could just barely make out the shapes of the small animals in the water, but their playful splashing could still be heard. Ursa sat down in the cool grass and pulled Zuko in toward her chest. His hair smelled like smoke and sweat, typical for a firebending child. He sighed deeply as he sank into her embrace. She waited. He would talk when he was ready. And this moment didn't need to be rushed. She was in no hurry to get back to the villa—to see Ozai.

"Mama, Azula told me not to tell," he said finally.

"Zuko, when someone is hurt, you have to tell," Ursa replied.

"But if she can't trust me, how can I protect her?"

"Zuko, you are still young. I know you want to protect her, but if you can't stop what is happening to her, then you have to get help. You can't save her from those who are more powerful than you."

"But that's just it, Mama. I _could have_ saved her. I just wasn't there in time. I heard her screaming, but if I had been there earlier, I could have saved her. I could have talked her out of it."

"Zuko, what do you mean?"

"She burned herself."

"What!?"

"I know everyone talks about what a great bender she is, but I'm better than she is. I could have stopped her. I could have… saved her from herself!"

"But… why? Why would she do that?"

He opened his mouth to answer but then hesitated.

"Zuko, when someone gets hurt, even if they are hurting themselves, you have to say something. I'm sorry. I know you want to protect your sister. This is the best way to—"

"She said it was because… she said you and Min… she wanted to be like you… and her. That it would make her stronger. That father would…"

Ursa's stomach lurched into her throat. "That father would _what_ , Zuko?"

"I don't know. It doesn't make any sense. She said father liked _marked_ women. But I don't know what that means. She said she just wanted to prove how strong she was. That she could do it… without screaming. Mama, I don't understand."

That was the confirmation Ursa was looking for. Azula must know. She must have seen. Or heard. And clearly Zuko hadn't.

He recoiled slightly at the look of horror on her face. "Mama, is it true?"

She closed her eyes. _Is what true, son? That your father likes marked women? Or that he is the one who marks them? Or that Azula may have done it to herself this time, but Agni only knows when he decides it will be her turn next?_

Zuko then clarified, "Is it true that pain makes you stronger?"

Ursa's eyes shot open. She answered automatically, even though a small part of her wanted to shield her six-year-old from such things. "Yes, Zuko. Pain can make you stronger if you so choose."

"What about fear? Does fear make your stronger?"

"No," Ursa said on instinct. "Fear can only tear you down." _Which is why I am so completely broken._

"Mama, I'm not like Azula. I'm afraid of pain. Does that mean I will never be strong?"


	8. The Legacy of Fire Lord Sozin

_Five years later…_

Ozai poured himself into the study of politics and military strategy in hopes that one day his father would defer to him on such matters, and he could establish himself as an authoritative voice—one worthy of making decisions—one capable of _ruling_. Because no one would deny that General Iroh held an impressive command on the battlefield, but Ozai noticed that his brother always came home to report his success and always presented his campaign before heading out once again. The Fire Lord was the true leader of the army and could live comfortably in the palace, protected by guards and shielded by a wall of flames. _That_ was the life Ozai wanted. Iroh could fight and bleed and _die_ with honor for all he cared. The throne was the greater prize. And no cost was too high to acquire it.

Fire Lord Azulon often did just that—remain close to the comforts of home—but occasionally he would travel, and when he did, Ozai took advantage of it. It wasn't role play, per se, although he liked that sort of thing— _especially in the bedroom._ When his father left, the leadership of the council fell to him, so he took every opportunity to put certain plans in motion. He knew his father would be proud of his work even though the councilmen often called his strategies risky, insane, _inhumane_. They were just cowards. The Fire Nation wasn't going to win this war by being careful. They would win by sheer force, by terror, by fear.

During the council meetings, he never sat in his father's position although he desperately wanted to. He knew no one would receive that well, though, so afterward, he would gather the maps and plans to return them to the Fire Lord's office. It was there he would always linger. That is where he took his seat, and the role play began.

He spread the map out on the desk and traced a finger along the path of destruction the Rough Rhinos had left in their wake. Colonel Mongke had been a classmate of his at the Academy, so he knew of the man's ruthless nature. The special ops unit awaited instructions on what to do next, and Ozai had proposed they continue to ravage the Western Earth Kingdom countryside. Some of the councilmen expressed concern about the farm villages full of innocent women and children. _Cowards! This is how you get the Earth King's attention! This is the price you pay in war!_

He stroked the map with his whole hand this time, feeling a surge of power pulse through his blood. He'd take a woman right here, right now on this desk, hard and fast and _on fire_ if he could. He could summon a servant girl. Father would never know. He was almost dizzy at the prospect, the need for control burning throughout his entire body.

It had been years since he'd given into any of these impulses. Fire Lord Azulon had threatened banishment, and that was enough for him to rethink his priorities. His father told him never to touch Ursa again, so he didn't. That didn't mean he couldn't command her to touch him, and with his wife now reduced to a lowly nonbending peasant, the role play scenarios had been plenty satisfying. His favorite was Ursa as a Water Tribe whore. He especially liked watching her choke on his cum when he called Zuko her bastard son.

But then there was this thing about not touching Azula, either. He never understood what that was all about. He would never hurt her, no, she was _perfect_. She was the prodigy child. Since he was still confused on how he got blamed for burning her, he decided to leave her firebending training to others so there would be no room for suspicion. Instead, he had a different kind of training in mind for his daughter—the art of manipulation, the science of control, and the economy of blackmail. These things would take her far in life.

Thinking about Azula was enough to quell his desire for the time being, so he decided to get a drink. He shifted things around in his father's liquor cabinet looking for something specific. _Too much damn whiskey!_ Maybe when he wrote to Colonel Mongke, he'd request something new and exotic from the Earth Kingdom. There was one bottle on the bottom shelf that looked interesting, but when he reached for it, he heard a clank of metal hit the floor.

It was a key. Suddenly the quest for alcohol became secondary. He _must_ know what this key unlocks. There was a cabinet in the corner. It had a keyhole, but it was already open. There was a drawer in the desk. Nope. The key didn't fit. He frantically searched the office, his head spinning as if he'd actually drank something after all. He braced himself against the liquor cabinet, and that's when he saw it.

Behind the cabinet was a faint outline of a hidden door in the wall. He might not have noticed it if he hadn't been gripping the side of the cabinet and focusing hard on the wall to rid himself of the dizzying sensation he felt. Of course, the liquor cabinet was too heavy to move with all the bottles inside, so he quickly started removing them and placing everything on the desk. Even empty, the cabinet was quite hefty, but he finally shifted it away from the wall to reveal his reward—a small doorknob and a keyhole.

The power surged through him again, the thrill of seeking and finding, and knowing he should _not_ be doing this. Father had secrets behind this door, he was sure of it, and knowledge was power. What was Fire Lord Azulon hiding, and how would it prove useful to him?

The room was small, dark, and dusty. Ozai lit a fire in his palm and then found wall sconces to help illuminate his treasure trove. To his disappointment, there wasn't much in there. A bookshelf lined one of the walls, but it was mostly empty. The pang of longing he felt in his groin was so deep that he had to sit down to bear the intensity of it. _What a fucking waste. Well, when I'm Fire Lord, this is where I'll bring the women, then._

From his position on the floor, he saw a few scrolls piled haphazardly on the very bottom shelf. Perhaps not all was lost. He leaned against the cold stone wall just below where he had lit the sconces and began sorting through the loot. The first two were nothing of consequence—a letter to someone he didn't recognize, signed by his grandfather, Sozin, and some vague battle plans drawn by the same hand no doubt. It was the third scroll that caught his attention. It didn't have a title, but the author was obviously Sozin. As Ozai read, his blood began to boil, and a plan began to form.

* * *

The Fire Sages just commissioned me to write my final testimony. I ended it with the day that Roku died because in a way, a part of me died that day, too. I can't explain it, but I felt connected to him somehow. Perhaps that is why I spent the rest of my days hunting the Avatar. Perhaps that is why I so readily jumped at the prospect to bring the Avatar into the royal line, so I could feel that connection once again.

I don't regret what happened with Roku. He would have stood in my way. He _always_ stood in my way. And as long as there's an Avatar in the world, the Fire Nation can't achieve the ultimate power we've worked so hard for. I did what had to be done. I broke the Avatar cycle. Perhaps this is my greatest achievement, my lasting legacy. The only regret I have is what it took to get there.

Wiping out the Air Nomads was an easy decision to make. Such a pacifist group won't survive in this world anyway. I knew the Avatar would be born in the Water Tribe next, so after taking the Northern Air Temple, I set my eyes on the North Pole. Sora, my dragon, resisted the flight, though, and my men complained about the bitter cold, so we retreated briefly to restock supplies and revel in the warmth of our homeland before Sora guided us to the South Pole instead. Sora was Fang's companion, so perhaps she knew something I didn't. The dragons always had a connection, much like Roku and I did when we were younger.

For being such a small tribe, the southerners put up a good fight. We were there 61 days which was 60 more than I figured it would take to conquer them. I was growing cold and tired. I sometimes wonder if delirium had set in because when Makenna first came to me, surely I wasn't in my right mind.

Damn, she was beautiful, though. Skin the color of chocolate but with a taste far more exotic than that. Hair as soft as silk but finer than anything I've ever touched. Eyes as deep as the ocean, and I was lost at sea in them. And the ripples and waves I felt when she rode me, I've never experienced anything like it.

She promised me the Avatar. I was so spellbound by her beauty that I believed her. The next one would be born into the Water Tribe, and she assured me that she would be the one to carry the child, and I could be the one to father him. When I released my seed into her, I felt a connection. To her? Perhaps. But it was that same sense of closeness I had once felt with Roku. I saw it as confirmation. Yes, she would bear me the Avatar. I was sure of it.

So, we left the Water Tribe. I had achieved my victory and claimed my prize. The Fire Sages were not too thrilled. They were concerned about corrupting the pureness of the royal bloodline. I told them of the promised child, but they said it didn't make sense according to the birth cycle of the Avatar. I didn't listen because I _knew_. Makenna had _promised_. And soon enough, Druk was born.

On the same day, Sora laid an egg. I assumed it was Fang's, and I also took this to be a sign. The dragon would become Druk's as it only made sense for the offspring of Roku's dragon to become the animal guide for the next Avatar. And it was almost poetic how my dragon was the mother when I was the father of the Avatar child. Makenna took special interest in the egg, too. The Water Tribe woman always had a connection with Sora it seemed. I wondered if it was a motherhood thing since they were both carrying their babies at the same time.

I didn't expect to have another child so soon, but I couldn't get enough of this woman. Druk was barely a year old when Azulon was born. Roku was the closest thing I had to a brother growing up, so maybe this would be a good thing. Maybe they could be friends. Druk would be Avatar _and_ Fire Lord. It was a perfect scenario. Having the younger brother so close behind him, though, could present a power struggle.

There would be no struggle between brothers. No friendship, either. I remember the look on Azulon's face as he watched me take his brother's life. I'm sure he doesn't remember it, but not a day goes by that his horror-stricken expression doesn't flash before my eyes. I can't even picture what Druk looked like anymore. I had burned his flesh beyond recognition.

The Fire Sages confirmed that Druk was not the Avatar. It wasn't the boy's fault. It was mine. Yet my rage consumed me, and I live with the guilt to this day. I killed my son, my own flesh and blood. Makenna disappeared after that. I lost Azulon that day, too. He was only two years old, so I don't know if he remembers what happened, but he knows I drove his mother away. And he knows I've cast him aside, too. But what could I do? He reminds me of the worst mistake I ever made.

At least I have one thing to offer him. The crown.

And I'm certain the Avatar is dead. Because when Roku died, it became my conviction. When Druk died, it became my contrition. And when I die, it will become my contribution.

This is the legacy of Fire Lord Sozin.

* * *

 **A/N** : Oh, the headcanon craziness!

Actually, most of this could BE canon, I'm only filling in plot holes. I make a few adjustments where things don't make sense. Sozin's age doesn't make the most sense, but I stick with it for the most part. He's around 80 years old when he starts the war, and it would appear that Azulon is born around that time, too. No mentioning of the mother, so...

Also, Sozin's dragon. It's blue. I contend that the blue dragons are female. In Zuko's dream in _The Earth King_ , the blue dragon has Azula's voice. And the masters, Ran and Shaw, are presented as a Yin and Yang balance, implying that one is male and one is female. Druk is said to be their descendant, but since they are the original masters, all dragons are technically their descendants.

So, Druk... what's the story there, huh? This is one of those canon plot holes that left the door wide open for me to explore. (Um, I think it's just a sunstone in _The Firebending Masters_ episode. That's what the sun warrior called it after all.) So, there's definitely more going on with this story than Sozin told here. The Fire Sages would have covered up as much of this as they could, hence the hidden scroll in the secret room. Obviously Azulon knows about it, and now Ozai does, too. If you want to see what Ozai decides to do with this little tidbit of information, check out _Deal Breakers._ Because I thought Azulon granting Iroh's birthright to Ozai was a HUGE plot hole that needed to be filled.

The Water Tribe version of this story appears in _The Dragon and the Wolf_ , Chapter 6: Truth Hunt. In the South Pole, they talk of a woman who saved her people, the legendary Makenna, otherwise known as Smoke on the Water.


End file.
